


Melt

by Heart_Seoul_Soshi



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 06:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13094013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heart_Seoul_Soshi/pseuds/Heart_Seoul_Soshi
Summary: Mal and Evie's first snowfall





	Melt

**Author's Note:**

> from an anonymous request on tumblr

_“Mal, it’s supposed to snow tomorrow night!!”_  
  
_“Say what?”_  
  
_“It’s going to snow! Can you believe it?? We’re going to see snow!”_  
  
Evie simply couldn’t stop talking about it as the day went on, and despite her rather nonplussed reactions, Mal really didn’t mind in the slightest. But with the sun bright, the sky clear, and only the most common of winter chills in the air, Mal wasn’t liking the way Evie was getting her hopes up. Auradon was not one for drastic changes in weather, and the way things were holding up now, that forecast of Evie’s was looking more and more implausible by the hour.

The way she ranted and raved made Mal idly wonder if that was where Dizzy Tremaine had gotten it from, and all throughout class, Mal kept catching Evie’s eyes fixed steadily out the window, watching and waiting.  
  
None of the VKs had ever seen snow. They read about it in books, saw pictures, and heard of it from those on The Isle who had experienced it before their imprisonment (save for Evie’s mother, who refused to talk about snow—meteorological or otherwise).  
  
It was supposed to be a magical sort of thing, the first sighting of flakes of white drifting from a slate gray high above. The sort of thing that had people drop what they were doing year after year to race to the window and light up with smiles. Mal would love to see a smile like that on Evie’s face, would love to see her race to the window with childlike excitement. The feelings she’d been harboring for her best friend for some time now couldn’t help but wish for snow as well. But when the sunset sky was painted with vivid colors instead of dull, cloudy grays, chances of a winter wonderland by tomorrow night seemed abysmal.  
  
It still didn’t stop Evie from casting her gaze out the dorm room window after changing into her pajamas that night, standing close to the glass and feeling the chill radiate off of it. The sky stayed clear, as evident by the beaming moonlight, and Evie fruitlessly searched for hints of white even though there wasn’t a cloud anywhere.  
  
“…E, come on, get some sleep,” Mal said, already tucked under her own covers. “The snow will be here tomorrow.”  
  
Mal spoke optimistically in spite of herself. If anyone or anything was going to burst Evie’s bubble, it wasn’t going to be her.  
  
So Evie relented, an excited smile of anticipation the last thing Mal saw before Evie closed the curtains, clicked off the lamp, and plunged the room into darkness.  
  
“I can’t wait,” she said to Mal, rolling over in her bed to face her best friend on the other side of the room. “Everyone’s been talking about it, they think it’s going to pile up really fast. Enough to build snowmen, and have snowball fights. M, do you want to b—”  
  
“Don’t say it,” Mal laughed.  
  
“Aren’t you excited?”  
  
Mal couldn’t lie.  
  
“Yeah, I am.”  
  
Just for slightly different reasons.  
  
It was certainly cold enough for it the next morning, no doubt about that. And Mal could tell by the dim and gloomy light coming weakly through the curtains that the day was equally dim and gloomy, the sort of weather Evie had been keeping a fierce eye out for. Mal was  _so_ wonderfully warm under the covers that she didn’t even want to get up, simply snuggling into her pillow and burying her head more and more each time Evie sleepily uttered a “…M, it’s time to get out of bed.”  
  
The cold had them both off to a slow start that morning, but Evie had snapped out of it by first period and was now practically counting down the hours until the snow was supposed to begin falling. Through passing periods and conversations at lunch it was clear that there were murmurs of the expected snowfall here and there, but to Mal it was just as clear that no one was talking about it more than Evie. It wasn’t looking quite so grim when school ended and the temperature continued to steadily drop, Evie couldn’t even stay focused on her homework for long the way her attention kept fixing itself on the library windows.  
  
Come nightfall, Evie was ready. In a dark blue down coat and a fur-lined purple bomber jacket for Mal, the pair headed out onto the school’s front lawn with gloved hands shoved tightly into pockets. Mal pulled her beanie down over her ears as they walked, knowing only Evie and Evie alone could ever drag her out into this chill just to look up at the clouds and wait. The dry winter grass crunched under their feet, and the light from the school behind them was their only illumination in the dark. A brief gust of wind buffeted them, and after wrapping her scarf tighter Evie smooshed herself close to Mal, thinking they might stay warm that way.  
  
“You spent all day content with looking out a window and  _now_  you want the real thing,” Mal’s laugh dissolved into a shiver.  
  
They were a fair distance away from the building when Evie came to a stop, having found the perfect spot.  
  
“This is going to be amazing, M,” Evie bounced on her feet, partly ecstatic, partly trying to warm up.  
  
The weather was perfect, the sky was clouded over, and all they had to do now was wait.  
  
And wait.  
  
And wait.  
  
And wait longer still.  
  
Mal got to the point where she wasn’t sure she could feel her nose anymore. Beside her, Evie was stiffening in a way that had little to do with the cold.  
  
“…Hey, you know it’s not going to snow right on the dot. The weather can’t tell time,” Mal said encouragingly, bumping Evie’s shoulder. “Let’s just give it a little bit.”  
  
Evie didn’t say anything, head tilted back and looking up studiously.  
  
“…E, tell you what. We’ll head inside for a little while, warm up, and then come back out again. Okay?”  
  
“…Okay,” Evie quietly agreed.  
  
So that’s just what they did. Retreated to the cozy security of their dorm room and left their winter gear ready and waiting draped over the desk. Mal brought out a blanket, wrapped herself and Evie in it as Evie turned on the news to watch for the weather. An hour later, they went back out.  
  
And fifteen minutes after that, they came back in.  
  
They warmed up once more, and then braved the night once more. A pattern was evident as they came trundling inside again for the third time.  
  
Just as Evie’s thrilled excitement rose and rose the day before, her disappointment now was crashing lower and lower. Yesterday’s forecast called for snowfall around eight p.m. the following day. It was now nearing midnight. Mal couldn’t stand the way Evie sat quietly, head and shoulders slumped sadly, sniffling from the cold (or at least what Mal hoped was the cold and not the onset of tears).  
  
“…Come on, Evie. One more try,” Mal gently nudged her and stood up, slipping on her gloves and beanie and then holding Evie’s jacket out to help her into it.  
  
One more try, one more walk across the crunchy grass and out onto the middle of the lawn. They waited. And waited. And waited longer still.  
  
“…Forget it,” Evie’s voice was terribly small, and when a sniff was accompanied by a gloved hand wiping at her eye, Mal’s heart sank with the knowledge that it wasn’t the cold she was sniffling from this time.  
  
And it wasn’t the cold that made Mal’s heart freeze up uncomfortably, either. Evie had her arm looped through Mal’s until she yanked it free and spun around, storming off back the way they’d come from so many different times that night.  
  
“E, wait!” Mal called out, starting after her.  
  
Evie wouldn’t listen, the profound disappointment and heartbreak sitting squarely in the center of her chest.  
  
“Evie!”  
  
Even from behind her, Mal heard the first small sob stutter from her best friend, and the sound stopped her in her tracks. Helpless, hopeless, Mal looked up at the empty sky like the answer was written there in the charcoal gray. And maybe, just maybe, it was.  
  
Because suddenly Mal knew.  
  
_“Sky above, so cold and gray, listen now to what I say. Let there be no rain or sleet, let the snow fall at my feet.”_  
  
Her words were quietly uttered, so much so that Evie didn’t hear a single syllable. The distance between the two girls was only growing as a teary-eyed Evie refused to stop, but after wiping her vision clear again, something caught her eye. She almost didn’t see the small puff of white drift lazily down in front of her, or almost chalked it up to her imagination, but another followed, and then another still, and soon she could see them beading together on the blue of her hair. She shuffled to a stop and a gasp escaped her. When Mal caught up, Evie was turning this way and that on her feet, glancing all around. She saw it on the purple of Mal’s hair too, as well as speckling her beanie and the fur collar of her jacket.  
  
“…Mal?”   
  
Mal tilted her head up, let a small smile creep across her lips.  
  
“Well, would you look at that,” she said.  
  
“…Mal!! It’s snowing!!”  
  
Gone away was the terribly disheartened Evie, and here was an Evie not bouncing on her feet, but  _leaping_. Throwing every bit of sophisticated class ingrained in her by her mother out the window and literally jumping for joy.  
  
“Look, M!! It’s snowing!!”  
  
There was the smile. The bright, celestial grin from ear to ear that Mal had been hoping to catch a glimpse of.  
  
“It’s snowing!” she said back, Evie’s mood instantly contagious.    
  
With the most,  _most_  wonderful of laughs Evie ran right into Mal’s arms, the two of them hugging each other tight with incredulous giggles. Within seconds it was snowing harder, already sticking to the ground in a fine powder and catching in the girls’ dark hair like stars in the night sky.  
  
“I can’t believe it, look how amazing it is!” Evie cheered, not letting go of Mal but instead holding her by the waist.  
  
“…It really is magic, isn’t it?” Mal said sincerely, looking up in awe.  
  
Evie giggled again when a snowflake dropped right onto the tip of Mal’s nose, lingering for a second before it melted.  
  
It really was magical, the sight of their first snowfall. But more magical than the sight of that was the sight of Evie, with sparkling eyes and a radiant smile. Somehow, by some twist of fate, they looked away from the sky at the same time to find themselves looking into each other’s eyes. Green and brown shone warmly despite the cold as a canvas of white continued to build around them. It was more wonderful than anything they’d ever read, anything they’d ever heard. Evie pulled Mal slightly closer as the snowflakes fluttered down by the dozen.  
  
And Mal didn’t expect that Evie could be enchanted with anything other than the snow tonight, but she was handily proven wrong in the way Evie was suddenly clearly riveted with her. The two of them stood together in each other’s arms with a winter background behind them, something straight out of a fairytale. Mal knew fairytales, she’d known them long before ever coming to Auradon.  
  
So when Evie slowly leaned in, and her eyes fell shut, Mal knew exactly what to do.  
  
They wouldn’t have guessed it, spending all night out in the cold, but the feel of their lips pressed softly together was so,  _so_  warm. A warmth that ran a course down to their hearts, melting the evening’s icy chill away into nothing. Here was another kind of smile worn proudly on their faces when they pulled away and continued to hold each other, a kind of smile accompanied by pink cheeks and fluttering heartbeats.  
  
“…Magic,” Evie breathlessly said, agreeing to the statement of Mal’s that already seemed so long ago.  
  
Mal nodded, letting her nose brush against Evie’s as she did so.  
  
“Magic,” she too agreed.  
  
Mal had a book full to the bindings with spells and enchantments, but there were some things she couldn’t be taught from  _any_  old spellbook. Sunsets, autumn, a starry sky, a chorus of crickets.  
  
First snowfalls, first kisses.  
  
Evie’s smile, Evie’s touch.  
  
Evie’s heart.  
  
Evie.  
  
_Magic._


End file.
